


Soft

by Gautiers



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gautiers/pseuds/Gautiers
Summary: Everyone knows that Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd becomes soft when his beloved is around. It isn’t hard to notice the harshness of his face easing into something kinder and more human, or how the rigidity leaves his shoulders so he isn’t so imposing towards others, or the way his eye trails her as she walks through the room.





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> this became longer than i thought, and i ended up taking two weeks to write this lmao. i also think the title is funny bc byleth makes dimitri go soft but also hard if ya catch my drift. 
> 
> anyways, this is unrevised and unedited. sorry for any mistakes; enjoy the smut ya filthy dogs

Everyone knows that Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd becomes soft when his beloved is around. It isn’t hard to notice the harshness of his face easing into something kinder and more human, or how the rigidity leaves his shoulders so he isn’t so imposing towards others, or the way his eye trails her as she walks through the room.

“You’re staring, Your Highness,” Dedue comments dryly. He observes his lord curiously, whose haze hasn’t left the Professor’s form since she came into the meeting hall. Ingrid and Sylvain also hold their friend with the same curious regard, whispering to each other most likely of Dimitri’s obvious infatuation. Dedue clears his throat politely and, using his elbow, nudged -- or more like jabbed -- the blonde man in the side. “ _ You’re staring, Your Highness _ .”

Dimitri’s sole, cerulean eye flickers to attention, and noticing the few stares he’s garnered, including the Professor’s, he flushes a deep pink and hides behind folded hands. 

Dedue gathers his documents into a neat pile and hands them off to Dimitri. “It appears your discretion is getting worse with each passing day.”

“Nothing has changed,” Dimitri replies coolly, though inside, he is anything but cool. It has been weeks since he’s been able to spend any quality time with his fiancee. With him as the new king and Byleth as the Archbishop, their respective duties have kept them occupied and away from each other. Dimitri often jokes to Dedue that he is married to his people instead of his wife, but it is a constant reminder of the loneliness he often suppresses beneath the mask. Though king, he is just like any other man who loves and misses his beloved.

“I’m no better than a besotted schoolboy,” he mutters under his breath as he turns his gaze away from the love of his life. He can practically feel Byleth’s gaze boring fiery holes into him, and though her face betrays nothing, there is a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“Did you say something, Your Highness?” Dedue’s mouth is clearly twitching with a smile.

“No, Dedue, I did not.”

•.°•.○.•°.•

“Your Grace!"

Byleth turns at the all too familiar voice. "Your Majesty," she greets warmly. The small smile that pulls at her lips is inevitable, not when Dimitri's beaming expression is aimed directly at her. He often reminds her of a large dog that’s excited when its owner comes home, and especially so when they’re reunited after long stretches of absences like these. 

He closes the distance between them in an instant. His arms open up to envelope her, but he pauses, taking a moment to scan around and make sure they’re alone. Byleth takes the initiative and throws her arms around him instead, soaking up and relishing the warmth he wraps around her. 

“We’re alone,” she mumbles into his chest. He smells just as she remembered him -- smoke, pine, and winter. Oh, she’s missed him terribly. 

“I’ve missed you, Byleth.”

Dimitri’s voice is a low rumble in her ears, making shivers run up and down her back. He gives her one last squeeze before pulling back and brushing stray locks of her hair away with calloused fingers. His eye narrows. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"I don't sleep as well when you're not next to me," Byleth replies. She frowns slightly and touches the fragile skin beneath his lashes. "Though I could say the same to you. You look exhausted.”

Her breath stills as he catches her fingers in his and brings them to his lips; there’s a soft smack as he kisses them. “I don’t sleep well when you’re not with me, either. I’ve been plagued by dreams of you.”

“Good dreams, I hope?” She knows that for years, he was plagued by nightmares of the dead, and she knows just how much they hurt him every time he has one. He would wake up in a cold sweat while taking in heaving breaths of air just to try and calm himself down. He wouldn’t see her, he’d see past her, at all the things that have been haunting him for the past decade. Sometimes he would lash out, sometimes he would cry, sometimes he wouldn’t even remember screaming in the middle of the night.

Dimitri can see the worry in her large jade eyes, and he feels nothing but love for the woman in his arms. He kisses her forehead and then her cheek. “Longing dreams of you. Every morning I would wake, and I’d think that I was a day closer to seeing you.”

“Did you miss me that much?” she chuckles, as his lips feel ticklish against her skin.

“I miss you from the moment we part. Every time.”

The words make her breath catch. His candor is something Byleth adores about him. He never minces words and says everything as they are, especially so when he expresses his affection and adoration for her. 

She chuckles softly. “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, is there something you’re buttering me up for?”

There is a brief moment of hesitation in his eye which has widened in surprise, almost as if to say,  _ Did you read my mind? _ Pensively, he plays with the tips of her fingers. “Actually, I --”

“Professor!”

“Professor, you’re here!”

Dimitri is cut off by a duet of excited voices, respectively belonging to Mercedes and Annette. Their faces light up the moment they see their long-awaited friend, and Byleth returns the sentiment, embracing them both in a warm hug. 

"We're so glad you could make it, Professor!" Annette cheers. "We were worried when they said storms had been rolling in from the west."

Mercedes nods along with her best friend. "It seems the Goddess has blessed you with safe travels. Now you'll be able to celebrate with us for your welcoming party!"

Byleth expresses her surprise and shakes her head. "Goodness, you didn't have to throw a feast for my sake."

"Of course we do," Annette exclaims. "It's been so long since everyone has seen you. We're all excited to catch up and pig out tonight! Ah, speaking of pigging out, I have to let Dedue know to start prepping the food now!"

As quick as a whirlwind and nearly tripping over herself in the process, Annette leaves with a trailing Mercedes in her wake. "A-Annette, wait for me!"

Dimitri sighs and scratches his chin, an almost wistful look on his face. "I'm glad things haven't changed all that much."

"I'm glad to see my students are still firecrackers at heart," Byleth laughs. 

The man simply stares at her, soaking in the sound of her laughter like a dry cloth to water. He quickly shakes his head and offers an arm. "Come, allow me to escort you to your party."

Allowing her hand to rest in the crook of his elbow, Dimitri guides her to the dining hall, where a massive crowd is waiting for Byleth’s arrival. The poor man is essentially shoved out of the way as former students, knights, soldiers, and instructors swarm their beloved Professor with greetings and well wishes. Petulance and mild jealousy rise up in the back of his throat as he watches his wife return greetings and hugs; he too wanted to monopolize her. 

Dedue appears dutifully beside his lord with a flute of champagne for him. "She appears happy," the Duscurian man observes. 

"So long as she is happy, I won't interfere," Dimitri sighs, gratefully taking the drink and sipping at it thoughtfully. Perhaps he should get her a plate of food while he's waiting. She must be starving. 

Again, Dedue observes his lord and makes a simple statement. "I would think it's okay to steal her away."

Dimitri blinks. "How can I? This feast is for her."

"The people merely wanted an excuse to have the feast. Her Grace has been here many times, and in all honesty, Your Majesty, watching you pine for her has become painful."

"I am not  _ pining _ for her."

"I recall you comparing yourself to a besotted school boy earlier."

"Well, you're recalling wrong."

Dedue's lips turn up in a small smile. "I believe Her Grace feels the same way as you. She's done nothing but look at you all this time."

And true to his word, as Dimitri looks in Byleth's direction, their eyes meet and she smiles happily at him. It's a charming, irresistible turn of her lips that leaves him utterly molten in the palm of her hands. Not that he'd have it any other way. She always made him soft, no matter the occasion.

Dimitri goes to gather some of her favorite dishes, and the two of them sit amongst their friends and chat the evening hours away. The hall is filled with nothing but great company and cheer, even with a drunk Catherine, Annette, and Mercedes having an impromptu concert for them all. The knights even put together a comedic troop and gave everyone stitches in their sides from all the laughter that ensued.

Occasionally, Byleth sneaks glances at her husband, admiring his profile and thanking the Goddess above that he's so much healthier-looking than he was before. She remembers vividly when she had found him in the monastery, ragged and haggard and filled with such anger and hatred. Those five years had changed him, and she had been nothing but remorseful for leaving him to fend for himself all those years.

She reaches for his hand that's resting on the bench and interlaces her fingers with his. 

"Yes, Byleth?" He gazes at her lovingly.

She beckons him to lower his head just a bit, and she whispers warmly, "Come to bed with me." 

He immediately snaps to attention with ears and cheeks as bright as cherries. "Wh -- yes, of course! I-I mean --"

His sudden outburst garners plenty of stares, though one look at his face is all it takes to have a premise of what's to come. Dimitri clears his throat and assists Byleth to her feet. "My wife and I will be retiring for the night. I hope you all enjoy yourselves."

"Have a wonderful night, everyone. It was so good to see you all again."

As they leave the hall, Sylvain mentions to Ingrid with a knowing grin, "You know Dimitri's going to --  _ ow owowowow _ !"

"Don't you  _ dare _ say another word, Sylvain."

•.°•.○.•°.•

Byleth laughs softly all the way back to Dimitri's quarters. "You're a pleasure to tease, husband."

"I'm glad my embarrassment is a source of great amusement to you, wife," he grumbles, deftly locking the door behind them. Now that they are in the safety of their room, Dimitri allows himself to sag from exhaustion and unclips his fur cloak.

Byleth takes it to hang up. "For the record, I thought it was incredibly cute, the way you announced our retiring for the evening."

"How long must you tease me about this?"

"Perhaps until we're old and withered?"

"Well, then I pray I lose my hearing then."

"You don't wish to hear me tell you how much I love you?"

"Haven't you heard of the selectively deaf? Perhaps I will be one of them."

This makes Byleth laugh with her whole heart. Her eyes crinkle, her teeth show, her laugh resounds mirthfully -- it has Dimitri simply adoring her. There are never words to express what he feels when he gazes at her; it’s a sense of fullness, love, admiration, completion, though those words barely touch the surface. He loves her, madly.

After changing into their nightclothes, Dimitri seats himself cross-legged in the middle of the bed and Byleth, right behind him with a brush in hand. He removes his eyepatch, and she begins working his long blonde locks into strands of golden silk. His eye closes and a soft hum of contentment reverberates from him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had you brush my hair.”

“I can tell, what with all these knots in your hair.”

He chuckles. “I often forget.”

“I know. You always leave with some kind of bird nest in your hair when I’m away.”

“Would you be mad if I said it’s an excuse for you to brush my hair for me?”

Byleth tweaks his ear slightly, earning soft laughter from him, before setting the brush down and embracing him from behind. “I’d give you all the pampering in the world, Dimitri. You only need to ask.”

He’s still for a moment, soaking in her words of love and promise. Then, he turns in her arms and eases her back into the bed to settle himself between her legs and nestle his head into her chest. There is no heartbeat beneath his ear, but her radiating warmth is all he needs to know she’s there. “Just stay like this with me,” he breathes. 

"Always." She cards her small fingers gently through his hair. “I love that you’re honest with me.”

“As if I could ever lie to you.”

“And I love that you’re such a hard worker.”

"It takes hard work to stay on par with as wonderful a woman as yourself."

"You're incredibly handsome, and you have one of the biggest hearts I know of."

“Is that all you love about me?”

“No, I...I love everything about you.”

“...Byleth?”

He raises his head and finds her eyes are shining more than usual. “What’s wrong?”

Byleth shakes her head and hides behind her hands. “I love you so much more than I could have ever imagined,” she whispers, her voice trembling like a cherry blossom in a spring breeze. “I’m sorry, for some reason, I’m a little more emotional tonight.”

It’s as if a floodgate opens in Dimitri’s heart, and for a moment, he’s drowning in these feelings and having trouble finding the right words. 

Gently, he peels his wife’s hands away to gaze into watery, jade eyes. "I love you," he begins, bringing the palm of her hand to his lips, "though those three words do little to explain the depth of what I feel for you. Byleth,  _ I love you _ , with all that I am and everything that I will be. Always." He kisses away her tears as she cries and trails his lips down her cheeks, across her nose, along her jawline, until he reaches her lips, soft and plush and willing. 

Her breath catches as he kisses her, coaxing her mouth open so he can feel and taste more of her. He's hyperaware of every plane that connects their bodies; she's so soft beneath her nightgown, hot and slowly aching with desire as she presses more of herself against him. Byleth's fingers find their way beneath his shirt and runs her nails along his bare skin, making him groan with delight.

Dimitri begins to push her nightgown up, exposing pale, creamy skin longing to be touched. He kisses the spot just before her ear and starts running his hands up her sides. "May I?"

Nodding, she makes quick work of her nightgown and his clothing, and their bare chests press against each other as she kisses him. He can feel her nipples harden and brush delectably along his skin, his own member beginning to harden with every grind of her hips against his. It had been too long being away from her, and while every bone in his body aches to be inside her immediately, he forces himself to go slow and treat her tenderly, in all the ways she deserves. 

She hums her pleasure as he massages her breasts, kissing the sensitive skin and admiring her endowments. Occasionally, he bites here and there, enjoying her sharp gasps and sighs as he licks and kisses the places he's marked.

Slowly, he trails down her torso, pressing his lips with soft sucks and smacks as his hands follow suit. At the lip of her underwear, he gazes up at her with a near predatory stare. "Spread your legs for me, love."

Though the request is soft, Byleth cannot deny the authority in his tone and the utter excitement that shoots down to her toes. 

Dimitri begins his next move by giving special attention to her thighs -- smooth, supple, unmarked territory by which he has every intention to claim as his. He showers them with gentle kisses before finding one spot on her inner thigh to mark with a slow, painfully delightful branding. 

Byleth cries out, gripping Dimitri's hair with pleasant force. "Dimitri, please," she begs, craving friction right where her underwear teasingly rubs against her clit. This does not go unnoticed by her devoted lover, as he brings his thumb to rub against the core of her through the soaking fabric, making her jump and moan softly.

"Please what?" His voice is as sweet as honey, his touch as gentle as a feather.

She whimpers in frustration. "Don't tease me."

"I cannot please you if you don't tell me, beloved."

"...Dimitri!"

She blushes such a deep shade of red that Dimitri fears steam will erupt from her ears.  _ Such an erotic face _ , he thinks, pulling her underwear to the side and teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers. "You're so wet for me already."  _ So, so wet _ .

Coyly, he inserts one finger, feeling her contract around him, and then he adds a second and a third, slowly pumping in and out as the lewd sounds fuel his straining erection. They curl up against a particularly sweet spot, one that makes her gasp in surprise and moan for more. “Dimitri,” she begs, “I can’t -- please --”

Dimitri runs his tongue, long and slow, across the core of her, savoring her taste and the keen of pleasure from her lips. He sucks gently on the bundle of nerves between her folds, and even more of her essence comes pouring out. Every nerve in his body screams to be inside her, to rock into her delicious heat, to feel her pleasure as acutely as his own and lose himself completely. 

He returns up her body, nipping at her collarbone and up the column of her neck before stopping at her ear. “I won’t continue unless you instruct me,  _ Professor _ .”

In an instant, he’s flipped onto his back with Byleth straddling his hips between her legs and looking every inch like a goddess above him. Her face is flushed and her eyes are glassy as she pants, “I think my  _ student _ needs another lesson on obedience,” letting her nails drag down his chest and graze past his nipple. Dear Goddess, he is so, so painfully hard.

His wife guides the tip of his cock to her entrance and lowers her hips so that he’s barely inside her. Dimitri hisses and grips at her hips, however, she swats his hands away and leans down closer to him. “Don’t touch yet.” It takes every ounce of self-control to not thrust up into her and take her the way he wanted to. 

Grabbing fistfuls of the sheets beneath him, he watches with sheer lust as she slowly lowers herself, sheathing him with her and tightening so pleasurably around his length. She then raises her hips, and lowers herself again, this time beginning to set an agonizingly slow rhythm as she takes him for herself.

Dimitri curses, his head rolling backwards and his conscience slowly drifting until all he can think about is coming inside her. He can feel himself becoming undone, the tightening of pleasure in the pit of his stomach growing as Byleth increases her tempo. Every muscle in his body is strung tighter than a longbow, and he is so damn  _ close _ to freefalling over the edge of euphoria. 

“Beloved,” he groans, relinquishing his grip on the bedding to grab at Byleth’s full hips and angle her so he can hit her sweet spot with every thrust. She nearly screams at the penetration. 

“I’m close,” she whispers, her brows furrowing and her insides spasming. “Come with me. Dimitri, come -- !”

One particularly deep thrust triggers her orgasm, and with a silent scream, she climaxes. Dimitri thrusts once, twice, before coming inside her, filling her, sating her. “Oh, Goddess,” he sighs, letting the liquid fire flow through his veins and relax his muscles.

In his arms, Byleth is a puddle of happiness and love and satisfaction. She nuzzles against Dimitri’s chin, pressing languid kisses along his jaw and temple with a soft giggle. “I see you haven’t lost your touch, Dimitri.”

He swathes them both with one of the many fur blankets piled in his bed and cuddles close to her. “How could I, when I’ve been imagining this moment for weeks? We really shouldn’t spend so long away from each other.”

“Are you sure? Sex is quite more pleasurable when we’re -- mmph.” 

He pinches her lips together with his fingers and glowers at her. “My heart can’t handle being away from you like this, Byleth.”

“...Mmn.”

When he releases her, she settles herself against his side and listens to the soft thud of his heart beneath her ear. It’s a constant rhythm, a gentle lullaby, and as she drifts off to sleep, she admits inwardly that maybe they should start living together in a more permanent situation. Well, for another day, when she wasn’t so sleepy.


End file.
